SHOUT me a beer. Good on ya, mate.

Dallas Cowboys Owner: ‘I promise we’ll be playing in the Super Bowl, my boy, just listen to old Jerry’

The mood at JerryDome was somber. Like at a funeral. For a child who died a needless death.

Coach Wade Phillips was staring blankly into space. The ghost of Tom Landry paced back and forth in the corner, his hat bobbing up and down.

Suddenly, Jerry Jones came crashing through the door, smiling like a lunatic, eyes big as saucers.

“Wade ol’ buddy. The Cowboys are going to the Super Bowl,” Jerry said.

“Whut?” asked Wade, as he fell to his knees and kissed Jerry’s SB XXX ring.

“I know this team has had some problems this year, and I take full responsibility for that, because I am a very big man. But when the going gets tough, the tough cheat. And I have. Look at this.”

Jerry carefully opened a box and pulled out a big gray sheet, holding it with awe and reverence.

“Boss, that’s a dingy ol’ bed sheet. How’s that gonna get us in the Super Bowl?”

“It’s magic Wade my boy, magic. It’s Harry Potter come to life. British scientists call it Metaflex. It’s a cloak of invisibility. And it works,” Jerry said, covering himself with it and becoming all invisible.

“Whut? I don’t foller you,” said the razor-sharp Son of Bum. “Are you thinking about covering up Roy William or Dez and letting them sneak into the end zone? That might work, but remember Kitna’s our quarterback. I don’t thank he could never hit them. And at 1-6, we cud win the rist of are games and steel not make the playoffs.”

The ghost of Tom Landry sighed.

“Think laterally Wade lad, think,” said Jerry, waiting for his squire to understand. And he waited. And waited. Before giving up and wiping the spit bubbles from Wade’s chin.

“I’ve ordered 1000 square yards of this invisibility material. Here’s the plan. We’ll cover our entire team with it on Super Sunday and sneak them into my beautiful billion dollar stadium. We’ll also cover up whichever team is representing our conference, probably the dang-it-all Giants. Then we’ll spray them with knock-out gas.

“When the teams are announced, only one will run onto the field. Imagine that. A billion people watching the Super Bowl being played in old Jerry’s stadium, and there’s only one team on the field! When the Commissioner is about to have a heart attack, my Dallas Cowboys will take off their cloak of invisibility and run onto the field.

“If the NFL wants to have a Super Bowl game, they’ll have to let us play! It’s a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself. And the Metaflex material only cost eleventy bazillion dollars, about what we pay for an aging backup quarterback.”

“Ah get it, ah get it. And then we play football,” said Wade, all giggly, before his super-fast mind saw the flaw in big Jerry’s plan. “But we’d then have to play the Patriots or the Colts, and they’d kill us. Unless… WE COULD USE THE MAGIC SHEET INSIDE THE RED ZONE AND SCORE SOME, WHAT-DO-YOU-CALL-IT, TOUCHDOWNS!”

“Almost,” said Jerry. “The material only keeps you invisible for a short time, only long enough to get us onto the field. Not long enough to use during a five-hour game.”

“Son, do you kiss your momma with that mouth? Don’t talk like that. Besides,” said Jerry, with an even crazier look on his face. “I’ve spent a billion on another invention – they call it the Star Wars holographic three-dimensional telepresence.

“This is a beta version, but they swear by Super Sunday it will work big time. And I know just how to use it to help my boy Roy Williams achieve his destiny by winning Super Bowl XLV in Jerry’s brand new stadium.”

And he stared off into space. Smiling. Imagining his crowning achievement. His championship. In JerryDome. And his immorality. Or amorality. No, his immortality. That’s it.

Hmmmm…are you sure this is Jerry’s plan? I ask because I read that Uncle Sam had a deal to supply the team with “the Suppository of Vanishings.” Called “Hollow-Holes” for short! Yeah…they cause anything around them (in every direction) for about 60″ (5 feet) to just…vanish. How long…depends on how far up they are inserted. Top Secret stuff here! Promise that no one will read this article. Okay. Anyway…Jerry has already ordered enough for the team and his entire family. (Just in case…after ALL THIS…they STILL find a way to lose.)

Great idea but impractical, Marc. Jerry’s head is so far up his backside, there would be no room for the Suppository of Vanishings. And getting past Wade’s lips, all glued to Jerry Cowbutt, would also be a major logistical chore.

Oh shut up. I don’t care enough about your Plowboys to bother leaking details of your latest greatest strategic plan. They always involve overpaying players and hiring sycophant coaches. Best advice I’ve been given about you by readers this week? Get a rope. I’m in.